Mantle's Example

Legendary Lifestyle Is Not Something To Be Emulated

June 09, 1995

How to explain the phenomenon of Mickey Mantle to a generation for whom he is merely a Hall of Famer who hasn't played baseball since 1968? To the preceding generation, essentially the baby boomers, Mantle is the ultimate sports hero, an unparalleled package of triumph and tragedy.

He escaped a life in the mines of Oklahoma to become the All-American hero. He was the centerfielder for the consummate sports team, the New York Yankees, which won 29 pennants in 44 years through 1964, 12 of the flags on Mantle's watch. He was a switchhitting slugger with awesome power, he was blond and handsome and he had that euphonious name.

But there have been a lot of good ballplayers. Mantle is only eighth all-time in home runs and finished with a lifetime batting average two points below .300. And therein begins the explanation of his legendary status. He was plagued by injuries through his 18-year career and haunted by a family legacy of Hodgkin's disease that plagued his father, grandfather and son at middle age. Drinking that turned into alcoholism eroded his skills prematurely.

In the last few years, Mantle came clean but he waited almost too late. He ended an adulthood of carousing and began explaining himself. But the physical damage was almost irreparable, and now the world waits to see if a new liver transplanted Thursday will save him at age 63.

Will Mantle's worshipers heed his example? Americans have long resisted the messages of good health: Stop smoking, eat better, live in moderation, don't get too much sun. Now in Mantle America has a living, barely breathing example of the consequences of abusing one's body. Instead of grumbling that Mantle's status earned him a transplant with unusual alacrity, people should learn from his doctors' insistence that his grave condition was the real reason for haste. His fate should spur his fans to shape up before it's too late.